Internal Terror
by LadyHazelK
Summary: This is what nightmares are made of. There used to be six of us… Now I'm alone. Will someone save me from the cusp of death? I don't know, but when the darkness comes, I hope I'm strong enough to find out. **HIATUS**
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was originally posted in my facebook group as a Halloween flash fic. I decided to keep any names out of it for the first 4 chapters, choosing to keep a little bit of the mystery still intact. This is a Suspense/Horror/Angst fic, which is a little different from my norm and I'm excited to see your thoughts! The original banner excluded whole faces and didn't show any Twilight character; the new one does. It was brilliantly made by Cullens Conquest! It's so perfect!

Updates planned for Tuesdays or Wednesdays, depending on how school treats me.

Beta'd by Cherry :*

 **Disclaimer:** Story is mine, Twilight is not and is owned by SM. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Chapter One**

There used to be six of us.

Now, I'm alone.

.

.

.

We were taken in the night, one by one. None of us remembered how we got there. All I know is when we woke up, we were each locked in our own cell. Together, the cells formed a circle, surrounding a black hole about six feet wide. Each of us had an inch-thick mat for a bed and a thin blanket. The only light came from small, square cut-outs in the roof of each cell. There were no doors and no way of telling what the holes' purposes were—that was until two nights later, when the yelling and screaming started.

The darkness arrives, and with it comes the nightmares. And with the nightmares comes the agonizing pain—both mental and physical—and the cries for mercy. I've only had one so far, but I won't be spared tonight. Of their chosen pool, they—whoever "they" are—have no one else here to drain from.

The darkness took over the minds of the others and won their souls.

I don't want to think about what the next nightmare will be. Thinking about it paralyzes me with fear. They feed on fear, you see, giving life to the unseen demon that they are. I don't know how strong I can stay or if I should even try at all. Based on everything I've heard—the screams, the cries, the torture—death is inevitable; I can feel it deep in my bones.

Night fall nears, and I'm exhausted. I haven't showered since I woke up in this hell, and the dirt floor, stale air, and the bathroom situation do nothing to help the stench. One thing still amazes me: my ability to go nose-blind, and no longer able to smell the foulness of this place.

I curl up in the fetal position on my mat and cover myself, getting as comfortable as I can. There's no heat to keep me warm during these early October days and nights. I try to stay awake as long as possible, but soon, I can't keep my eyes open, and I drift off to sleep.

*IT*

I must be dreaming now, because I'm walking with my ex. It's more like a memory of when we were on good terms. It was a night four years ago, and the temperature was quite like recent nights, only I had him and a coat to keep me warm.

We were walking down the street from the theater when he stopped and turned to me, pulling me in for a kiss. I was surprised for only a moment, and then I relaxed into his embrace … but only slightly. The same embrace that always calmed me and gave me support and protection, felt off for some reason. I was trying to figure it out when I felt a presence behind me.

Just like that, the blissful memory fades, and a terrifying scene unfolds in my mind.

I pulled away and turned my head to look. Before I registered who was standing there, hands slipped around my throat, squeezing and constricting my airway from behind. A figure in a ski-mask stood before me, doing nothing but staring me down, while my ex was unrelenting in his goal to suffocate me. How did he move behind me so fast without my noticing? I scratched and pulled at his hands, but nothing worked. My cold hands started going numb and I could hear my quickening pulse in my ears as I gasped for air. My knees buckled and my vision started to narrow and darken. The stranger's pure black eyes continued to stare down into my soul, seemingly trying to damn it to a specific Circle of Hell.

I wake, coughing and gasping for air. I can still feel the hands on my neck, fingers pressing into my pressure points and wind pipe. I continue coughing and massaging my sore neck.

I don't fall back to sleep again, scared of what I may dream of next. I need to stay busy, stay sane … stay positive. I start drawing flowers, smiley faces, stars … anything easy and mundane.

 **A/N:** Oh, dear. O.O


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Welcome back to the nightmare!

 **Chapter Two**

Early morning arrives and I can no longer keep my eyes open, despite the sunrise peeking through.

But then …

Hands sheathed in black gloves grasp my ankles and wrists. I fight with all of my might, thrashing and struggling to get free. I scream as loud as I can, surprised when no matter the pitch or intensity, they let me keep screaming. I scream more and more as they carry me to an unknown destination, until finally I'm spent. The air is cold and stale, and smells a bit like sulfur. Suddenly, the people holding me stop walking. I hear them talking, but their voices are muffled, making it practically impossible for me to make out specific words.

I hear a heavy door creak open, and then I'm suddenly flying. I scream, afraid they've thrown me down a hole, only to stop abruptly when I land a few seconds later. The ground is damp and doesn't provide much cushion to the right side of my body as it hits. I barely have time to sit up on my knees before I'm grabbed again, this time by the arms, and slammed against a cold, steel slab. They hold my legs down as they strap my ankles tight to the corners, and then shackle my arms above my head.

"Please, stop! Why are you doing this? What did I do?" I cry out, tears streaming down my dirt-riddled face into my ears and hair.

No one answers me. I cry harder and scream out for help.

Ten minutes pass before I hear a voice that does nothing to help me understand.

"No one can help you here."

The voice is deep and sure, its coldness sending shivers down my spine and giving me gooseflesh.

"Why? Why am I here?" I ask.

"You are here because you are," he says.

"What? What does that even mean? What did I do?"

The deep voice says nothing and nothing happens for an undeterminable amount of time. I cry and cry until I just can't anymore. At some point, I feel a drop of water on my head. This must be another trick, but then I feel it again. I turn my head so I can look up at the ceiling—or where the ceiling should be—and the next drop lands right in the middle of my forehead.

Finally, I can have some water.

I try to move, to capture it in my dry mouth, but with my ankles strapped down, I can't. I become frustrated, wiggling as much as the restraints will let me, feeling the biting pain as they seem to get tighter and tighter the more I squirm.

After what feels like hours, I decide to try and calm down and ignore it. Maybe if I try to find the rhythmic drip soothing it won't be so bad? I stop moving and concentrate on my breathing.

Drip.

Deep breath. Release.

Drip.

Inhale. Exhale.

Drip.

Inhale… hold…

Drip.

Exhale.

I count each breath, choosing only to concentrate on the fact that I still _can_ breathe.

Around breath 278, I start to falter. The room feels colder and has gotten impossibly darker. I feel eyes on me, but I can't find them. Panic sets in again and my eyes water. There's whispering but just like before, I can't make out the words being passed from person to person. A whimper escapes my lips without conscious permission. The whispers get louder and I can no longer tell how many voices there are. I try to cover my ear, but the searing pain in my shoulders and wrists make me scream out in agony; they've been bound and immobile for too long.

The whispers are so close to me. _Make it stop! Please!_

I thrash like before. _I need it to stop! Somebody make it stop!_

I wake screaming, with my hands over my ears, shaking my head.

 _How many more nightmares will I have to endure?_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Happy Tuesday!

 **Chapter Three**

In the hours following the water drip table I calmed down, only to be bombarded with more mental images of everything traumatizing. Anything a person would deem as torture, or a monster from Hell— a skinned human skinning another, a cannibal, watching a person repeatedly scratch their skin off or humans and animals being dipped in some type of acid— was present, and I was powerless to stop it. I dry heaved for an undetermined amount of time.

Now, a few hours later, I've barely calmed down again. My ass is numb from the cold ground, along with my feet as I rock back and forth. I can't find the courage to close my eyes for longer than a blink, but find it's just enough time to look up and through the single opening to the outside. I still wonder if he's looking for me—if someone is looking for all of us—even if all they'll get is closure. I pray that someone finds me soon, preferably alive. Do I want him—my love—to find me? I don't know if I want him to see me like this or worse.

I recall the others and their cries of pain, their words of surrender, their pleas for mercy. I thought I understood the first time I experienced this hell.

I was wrong.

I was so very wrong.

No one can understand until they go through it … repeatedly.

I no longer have an appetite, especially after those images, but I feel the hunger pains and I crave water. My urine has taken on that highly concentrated odor that even I can smell. I know I must have an infection, but I can't bring myself to care. My only goal is to escape or die in the next onslaught.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you want to look at it—my next chance has come. A rumble comes from the hole, followed by a deep gurgle. Two seconds later, a whoosh of water shoots up from within like a fire hydrant. I stand up fast, my back flat against the wall, hoping an escape will just appear. Water begins to fill all of the cells at an alarming rate. Soon, I have to kick my feet and move my arms to keep afloat. My body protests but adrenaline fills my veins, allowing me to keep my head up and breathe. Feeling like I'm tethered by weights at my feet, I push against the chaotic current and reach for the makeshift window, wrapping my fingers around the edges and holding on for dear life.

The now thoroughly brown water, laced with dirt and waste products, rises and rises. I try to dig into the window's edges to break it open more. Curling my fingers into the earth, I tug and pull, barely making a dent. Each tug causes more and more pain, leaving my fingers feeling like they've been penetrated by a thousand needles.

The water closes in and I know I'm running out of time.

I grip and pull, grunting and yelling in frustration and need. Finally, a piece breaks off and I grab another handful, tugging as hard as the last and as fast as I can. Another chunk crumbles off, but it's not enough and the water is too high. I take one last breath before I'm submerged.

Have you ever been under water where you can't touch your feet or open your eyes? Where all you can hear is the water pressure building and nothing else? Where every other sense is so heightened you can't tell if what you feel is real or paranoia? Where panic sets in and your built-up oxygen supply diminishes faster?

That is what I feel now. In a matter of seconds, I can no longer hold my breath. I don't want to let it out and breathe in this toxic liquid, effectively drowning. My head pounds, my chest hurts, and my arms and legs become numb and paralytic. I can feel the darkness of unconsciousness just seconds away. I force myself to hold it in.

In the cusp of the darkness, I feel something brush against my feet. Then, it brushes against my shins and calves, just as my feet can no longer bear the weight of my body. Something comes over me then, a burst of energy if you will, and I push to stand and break the waters' surface. I gasp and cough repeatedly, letting my lungs and blood fill with the much-needed oxygen.

The water drains out through the hole in the center of the prison, taking all evidence that it was even there in the first place with it. Where there should be mud and puddles, there's only loose and packed dirt, just like it was before. I'm left a cold, shivering mess, and I'm as dry as I was to begin with.

Completely exhausted, I collapse and lie there, my eyes seeking no permission to close.

I still wonder how much more it will take before I'm dead or rescued.

 **A/N:** Answers coming after next chapter.

And I do apologize for not replying to reviews for both this and WYB (if you're also reading). I have a lot going on nowadays, and I figured writing to complete fics in the midst is important. (:


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Eos Blaze was kind enough to let me use one of her marvelous poems in whichever way I wanted! The words below in this note are hers:

"A heart that breaks,  
The pieces drown in my tears,  
The emptiness aches,  
The pain is more than I can bear,  
I sit like a statue forgotten,  
The stone weary and wood rotten,  
I sit crying for memories that were,  
Away from home in this wilderness I linger..."

Again, while the above belong Eos, I did modify it them a little in order for it to fit this update a bit better.  
Anywhosers...

 **Chapter Four**

"Roses are red, violets are blue," I whisper. "I feel like an owl in here, asking why, how, who … who?"

I lie in the fetal position, too weak to move and throat still dry from all my screams. I yearn for fresh water to drink, not the dirty mixture I swear was here. I shiver, having nothing to warm myself with. I ache from the natural reaction to the hard ground and cold air. My joints and muscles are overworked from the continuous tensing and contracting. My head pounds, and no amount of holding or pushing on it makes it better.

"Roses are red, violets are blue. It's so cold. Why must this be true?" I shudder, but continue, hoping to keep my sleep deprived mind occupied. "Roses are red, violets are blue. I think I remember, but my mind is askew. Roses are red, violets are blue. If I get out of here, maybe I can marry you."

What I wouldn't give for this to be over … in whichever way.

"Roses are red, violets are blue. I wish … I wish … oh, how I wish you knew. I wish you knew about the where, the how, the why … I wish you'd hurry before I die."

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes at the new and rare smell of something akin to rain. "Roses are red, violets are blue. The smell of peace is with the morning dew. Roses are red, violets are blue…" I trail off, trying to think. "Roses are red, violets are blue…" I sigh. "I'm too tired to think of anything new."

I feel the ground vibrate, but only slightly. I don't move; I can't. Slowing my breathing, I try to see if I'm just scaring myself or if it's another nightmarish hallucination. I can't remember how long it's been since that last one, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours ago. I breathe out and then feel it again, and again, and again, until I see a bulge form in the dirt near the abyss of a hole. I push myself up into a sitting position, groaning in pain from stiffness.

My eyes widen as a hand breaks through the dirt, and any blood I had in my head drains, leaving me lightheaded. The hand claws at the ground, trying to pull whatever is attached out with it. As it digs, new areas of its flesh are exposed until the head emerges, letting out a growl of sorts. The humanoid creature is black and wet—with what, I don't wish to know—the moonlight reflecting off of it. It's so dark in my room that it's hard to tell what the face holds, for I cannot see the eyes, nose, or ears, if there are any.

When its upper half is visible, it releases a screeching sound. I jump back, hitting the wall behind me and covering my ears from the sudden high pitch. I have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from this evil. I want to do something—anything—to avoid whatever it is, but I don't know what. I have little strength left in me. The creature finally clears the hole from which it came, jerking like its joints can bend in every which way. It's unnatural, and a fear I've never felt before overcomes me. I can only close my eyes and pray that it takes me quick.

The hands grip my ankles and drag me closer. It happens so fast that my head hits both the wall and the ground in the process, and the skin along my spine burns from the friction. My eyes snap open out of instinct and I regret it instantly. The creature's face is void of any features; no eyes, nose, cheek bones, or lips. Its head is shaped like an upside down teardrop and looks to only have a small hole for a mouth.

"Roses are red, violets are blue," a deep, soulless voice says. "It's all in your head, you see? We own you." The memory of _Harry Potter_ and the dementors at Azkaban comes to the forefront of my mind. While that was fictional, this most certainly doesn't seem to be. "Take solace in your end."

The mouth widens to almost three-quarters the size of the creature's head and then I feel like I'm exhaling. I feel myself slipping, involuntarily giving it all memories and emotions, including any hope of an escape that involves me living. I simply start giving up on hope itself.

My heart breaks. The pieces drown in my tears. The emptiness aches. The pain is more than I can bear. I lay like a statue forgotten, the stone weary and wood rotten. I cry for memories that were.

The room grows darker, impossibly so.

 _This is it,_ I think.

I can't remember anything. _Did I have a family? Friends? Did I have someone who loved me waiting for me at home? What is love again?_

I feel something slide down my temple. _Is that a tear? How?_ I didn't think I had any left. _Why?_ I think I know why. I grieve in the knowledge that I can't remember my life.

Like the fallen petals from a rose, nothing remains but the stem.

Away from home in this wilderness I linger... simply existing.

 **A/N:** Answers start next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Here's the start of some answers. Beta'd by Cherry! :*

 **Chapter Five**

EPOV

Six people went missing four, almost five days ago. We started searching a day after they disappeared, and still nothing. Several people hold on to the hope of finding them, but there's many who seem to be losing theirs. The Wenatchee National Forest is a big place, but that was where all the reports lead the police to and all we had to go on.

It's been cold out, but not as cold as it could be. Weather reports say we have a cold front coming and with it, snow. It should arrive in a couple of days, which also happens to be the designated end to our search.

I'm calling bullshit on that. I will not stop until I find them; the lives of my sister and the person I love depend on it. I want to find the others too, but my only goal is to find those two women. Call it selfishness, I don't really care, but you can't tell me how to feel if you've never had to go through this.

The static of the walkie breaks through my ears, and then the words I've been waiting to hear flow right out. "I've found something! I see feet!"

The searcher gives landmarks and other indicators for us to find his location. Ten long minutes later I reach him and start digging, along with the three others that joined. The ground is firm, hardened from the cold, but it's not as hard as it could be. Our five shovels pierce the earth, the dirt falling into the opening and onto the body below. Fear overwhelms me when there's no movement from within.

"Stop. The hole is big enough for someone to fit."

I offer up myself by sitting on the opening's edge, my feet inside. Someone shouts, telling me to wait, as I drop down inside. It's a little too late—not that I would have listened anyway. Time is precious.

Inside, the stench is so foul it's difficult to breathe. Coughing, I pull my shirt over my mouth and nose to try and lessen the smell. When I reach the body, I kneel and roll the female from her side to her back. It's the Asian girl, Angela. Her condition tells me all I need to know, but the absence of a pulse confirms it. I sigh, relieved it's not Bella or Alice, but sad we did not make it in time for this victim, and anxious that we won't for anyone one else. Knowing this fuels my drive to find my two girls faster. I promised our families I would, no matter what.

"What is it?" I hear from above. I speak my findings loudly, but in a rush. The longer I stand here talking, the longer it'll take me to find more. "Give me your hands. We need to get you out so the crime scene people can do their job."

I look around the hole quickly, hoping to get an idea of what to keep looking for. It's dark and hard to see, but I can just make out some light streaming in from another spot. I reach up, grasping the offered hands, and am pulled out and replaced with people more equipped for this.

Picking up my shovel, I stand and look around. The others must be close. That hole couldn't have been more than twenty feet away. I look in the general direction of where I thought it was and start walking, looking down for an opening. I move foliage with my feet, trying to clear my path. Shadows catch my eyes several times as I search, but none are what I need. I don't make it far from that first hole before I see it.

"I've found another!" I yell out and start digging again.

When all is said, and done, the second hole reveals the dead body of Eric Yorkie. A witness had placed the 24-year-old male with Angela when they both disappeared in a struggle. Their friends had said they had just gone on a first date.

 **A/N:** I have the next update written, so I just need to send it off to the wifey. If you missed last night's tweet, there will be a delay in updates for this. RL with my classes in general have become a little more chaotic, not to mention having to be a parent at the same time, so my fanfics haven't been a focus. It's a big reason as to why I haven't responded to any reviews either. :( I know exactly what I need to write for this, so I can pick up right where I left off when I get the chance. TIA for understanding.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hey all! This is a little longer than the previous chapters and 2 POV's. GET YOUR TISSUES READY!

Due to the angsty nature of this fic, and my school/family priorities, it's been difficult to write for this. This is currently unbeta'd, so all mistakes including bad/confusing phrasing are mine.

 **Chapter Six**

 **BPOV**

There's a whisper on the wind of sounds I can't make out. Is it the birds chirping, the claws of squirrels running up trees, or maybe just the leaves on the branches swaying to wind flowing through them? I don't know what it is, but it sounds … beautiful. I can't remember what the word – beautiful – means, but it just feels right.

I don't know what's wrong with me. Why do I just feel heavy and immoveable, yet weightless and floating all at once? How is that possible? Why do I feel like I need to be doing something important, but I can't find the will to care? Why do I physically hurt? Why do I have so many questions and no answers?

The whispers become louder, easier to distinguish. Then they're no longer whispers, but talking. I try to move to seek out the source, but I can't; I'm not sure I know how. More talking, loud voices, and other noises rage on, but my body still won't move. It's getting closer, but never close enough.

"I've found a third!" I hear from somewhere around me. More noise and words, closer this time, but still not close enough. When the crunching stops, muffled words that sound like "not breathing," "no pulse," and "dead" penetrate my ears.

Oh, that poor person. Well, I assume they're talking about a person. Wait … what does that mean for me? Is that why I can't move? Is my body dead and my soul is trapped somewhere between this life and the next? I don't even know where in this world my body is.

I can't think. I don't _want_ to think about this anymore.

I lie here and clear my mind of all these questions. Instead, I try to concentrate on what's happening around me. The slightest tremor under me as the earth is disturbed from above; the words of the people who sound tired, but determined to get in and whatever out; the scent of clean air as the wind blows it in from the new openings. They find another – Alice, I think is the name. I see them this time, breaking through the top and dropping down to the body. The man looks her over, touches her somewhere near her head, and then calls up that she's also dead.

Alice. I think I know that name, but I'm not sure from where. An image of a red shape that has two round bumps next to each other over a downward point and a rabbit quickly flash in my mind.

Another person drops down and places some cards with numbers down. Bright, flashes of light appear repeatedly. It's so bright, I start to see black dots in my line of sight. I try to squeeze my eyes closed, but I just can't.

Come on, body! Wake up!

The flashes of light trigger another set of images: a box the color of the day sky, a red-tipped finger with a shiny stone passing over it and a squeal in the air. It feels important, yet I don't know why.

I'm not sure how much time passes before I finally hear the destruction of the ceiling above me. Dirt falls on and around me, letting in light from outside and a gust of fresh air. The sudden onslaught of something so beautiful does something to me, kick-starting my brain and senses. My eyes close tightly, then snap open as my lungs decide I need more of this amazing air. Unfortunately, the rest of me still won't work.

There's a thud from a person landing in my space. Hands move my hair away from my skin before they press their fingers onto my neck.

"A pulse," I hear whispered, then louder, "I have a pulse! She's alive! Get me oxygen and a med board in here now!"

There's a flurry of activity after that, including the image of a broken, yet relieved man with green eyes. Something inside me stirs and I ache for him. I wonder who he was here for?

 ****IT****

 **EPOV**

Alice is dead.

My little sister is gone.

We were too late; I was too late to save her. If only we had been here maybe a day earlier…

Sitting down on the ground, I bury my face in my hands, and cry.

What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to tell our parents and friends that the always happy and positive woman they knew won't ever be able to brighten our days again? She'll never meet her Prince Charming, get married and have children. She'll never throw another over-the-top birthday party and she'll never walk down the aisle as the Maid of Honor at mine and Bella's wedding next Fall.

Four bodies have been found: Angela Weber, Eric Yorkie, Leah Clearwater, and Alice. Hope of finding my fiancé alive evaporated a little more with each one.

From what I've heard, the cold temperatures accelerate rigor mortis, making it difficult to tell the exact time frame of death. In normal conditions, it can start two to six hours after the final breath and be complete four to six hours later. Remembering the research of this death stuff I did on a whim makes me feel sick.

"Mr. Cullen?" I look up to find someone from the medical team. "I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but since you're the only one of the family here and we don't want to wait too long, I need you to verify your sister's body."

I shake my head, "What? No. Are you serious?!" He apologizes again, but says that it needs to be done. I hang my head and shake it. "Fine. Okay."

I get up and walk with him. Part of me still hopes they were mistaken in everything and that she was never taken so it's not her. But a bigger part of me knows that she would never just run away and never talk to anyone. We reach the spot where her body lies, covered in the black body bag. He pulls back the top, uncovering her sweet face. She looks so dirty and thinner than I thought she'd ever look and… I walk away as quickly as I can and vomit next to a tree. When I've composed myself, I walk back over and confirm that it is indeed Alice, the twenty-one-year-old daughter of Dr. Carlisle and Esme Cullen.

I barely register the voice of one of the volunteers yelling. I'm quickly brought out of my clouded mind when more people make their way to the new spot and I see the oxygen and IV equipment. Someone's alive. I pray that it's Bella, for I don't know how I can live in a world where both my sister and the love of my life don't exist.

I wait on bated breath for the words I need to hear.

Minutes later, which feels like fucking forever, the medical board is lifted and there she is.

Finally.

 **A/N: *cries all the tears***


End file.
